Rain of Brass Petals
by Tarawr
Summary: Charon's past continues to haunt him through his dreams.


It happened almost every night. His dreams. Tess watched Charon's face as he sunk deeper into sleep, wondering if this was going to be one of those nights. She never let on that she knew about his dreams. Tess didn't know if it would upset him if she mentioned it, and didn't want to take the chance.

His face would twitch a little. His hands would sometimes cover his face, or lamely push away invisible attackers. Sometimes he would even talk, usually in a pleading way.

_Stop…please, stop… please…_

Other times, he would curse, threaten, cry…

It always gave her goosebumps…

They'd had to sleep in shifts almost every night this month, since they usually found themselves in the middle of BFE, and didn't want some type of creepy crawly snacking on them in the middle of the night. This night, Tess didn't have to be as on guard as she usually was. They had found a hunting platform of sorts; almost like a tree house, minus the tree.

The only thing she really had to watch out for were humans and the likelihood of running into any sentient being out here was slim.

Tess observed the setting sun, and then looked back down at Charon's resting body. She rolled her eyes. Of course, he was far too stubborn to take off his leather armor when he slept, even when Tess suggested it. He would just grumble out, "Is that an order?" to which Tess shook her head.

_There is no way he's comfortable_, Tess thought to herself.

He wouldn't even take a blanket or pillow when offered one.

She guessed maybe he was shy. Or maybe he just always wanted to be ready to fight, and allowing yourself to get comfortable could potentially slow you down. He was never too far from his shotgun, she noticed. He practically used it as a child would use a teddy bear.

Tess was jerked out of her thoughts as Charon began his strange groaning.

Yeah. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders, sat back and observed him as his face contorted painfully…

* * *

><p>Charon was ten years old again. But he didn't look like any ten year old should. His body was covered in scars, either from lacerations, burn marks or anything in between. He had large, deep bruises on his arms, legs, torso… everywhere.<p>

In his years of being in this terrible place, he had been put through countless things. Whippings, starvation, drug overdoses and withdrawal, sensory deprivation. He was sometimes suspended from the ceiling with ropes, either by his arms behind his back, upside down by his legs, or by hooks driven through his flesh.

Charon had been put through sleep deprivation several times, and when his tormentors didn't feel like coming up with anything creative, they would simply poke him with heated metal rods. On a few occasions, they would burn through the epidermis, the muscle and straight to the bone.

He was put through sound torture. Charon had no idea when his tormentors would press the several buttons on the display before them, or what sound they would make. Sometimes, it would just make a low buzzing noise, which Charon didn't mind. Other times, it would make terrible noises that he swore broke the sound barrier and leave him feeling on the verge of vomiting.

But waiting around for his next form of torture was his least favorite. Most would think it would be a good thing. He was free of physical pain for the moment. But the worst thing for him was waiting around, anticipating what was in store next, as was the case now.

He was sitting in Mr. Sikovsky's office in the seat in front of his desk. The sick bastard was in the backroom, taking his sweet old time doing whatever he was doing. He knew that the anticipation made Charon's insides freeze over.

Sikovsky was more into the psychological art of torture. Beating was barbaric, but warping ones mind was much more amiable. He loved mindfucking people.

He finally emerged from the backroom, his eyes shielded by his dark sunglasses. Charon had actually never seen his eyes. For this, he was glad.

Very few people actually wanted to look Satan dead in the face.

Sikovsky motioned for Charon to stand. He circled the young boy silently, like the shark that he truly was.

"Charon," Sikovsky said quietly. "Your wounds are healing up nicely."

Charon swallowed the lump in his throat and stiffened his small body up. A few strands of long black hair slipped over one of his eyes.

Sikovsky stood next to Charon and calmly pulled a handgun out from his pocket. He lightly rested it on Charon's temple, the coldness of the barrel stinging the boys flesh.

"Charon," Sikovsky said in a hushed tone. "Does your life mean anything?"

Charon didn't answer. Just clenched his jaw and stared ahead of him.

"I asked you a question, Charon… does your life mean anything?"

Charon's upper lip twitched briefly. "No."

"Good," Sikovsky went on, pressing the barrel a little harder against the young boy's temple. "What is your purpose in life?"

"To obey the holder of my contract."

"And who holds your contract?" Sikovsky quietly asked. Charon could only imagine the hard-on this sick fuck was getting out of this.

Charon's left eye twitched as he droned out, "You do."

"Yes, good," Sikovsky purred. "As the holder of your contract, I order you to take this gun."

After a small pause, Charon reached up and grabbed the handgun carefully.

"Now, hold it to your head."

Charon swallowed as his arm seemed to move itself upwards, the barrel of the gun resting on his forehead.

"Does your life mean anything at all to you?" Sikovsky asked as he took a seat casually in front of Charon, smiling at him.

"No. My life means nothing." Charon assured.

"Show me how little it means to you…"

Charon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His heart was hammering in his chest. Sweat was beginning to form on his forehead, moistening the cool steel of the gun.

He pulled the trigger, the click of an empty gun resonating in his skull.

* * *

><p>Charon woke up with a primal growl, causing Tess to jump. He looked at her after his mind settled back into reality.<p>

He pretended that he was getting an itch on his cheeks, but Tess knew that he was indeed wiping away some tears. He hastily took a drink from a nearby water bottle and got to his feet.

"I think I heard something," He explained, pointing to his left. "Excuse me…"

Charon grabbed his shotgun, climbed down the ladder and, Tess noticed, walked off to his right instead.

She sighed as she watched him. He was always so scatterbrained after his dreams visited him, and he would almost always come up with some lame excuse for his unusual behavior.

These days, he usually just did the easier thing and muttered incoherently or kept completely silent as he went off to be alone for a moment. Tess really preferred that over having to hear him make up excuses. It made her feel like there was this insurmountable wall between them when he felt that he had to lie.

Tess lost sight of Charon as he rounded the side of a cliff, and she went back to keeping watch, whatever that was worth.

Charon was being loud with his movements, but at the moment, he really didn't give a shit. He dared a Guai to come charging at him from any direction. He was so livid that he probably could manage to rip its head off with his bare hands.

He hated having this one little shred of his humanity left within him, but also having the one thing that really mattered when it came to being human blocked off from him forever: freedom.

How he longed for the day when these memories didn't affect him; when he was just so completely, absolutely untouched by his past. When he could finally become a complete slave and not feel a damn thing.

He got on his knees and remained there for a while. His emotional agony was unmatched. He was lightheaded, and an undeniable, animalistic fever was stirring inside him.

It made it even worse for Charon because he knew that Tess cared. She actually _gave a shit_ about him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the fucking brat started asking him what was wrong.

It was so much easier dealing with a master that was completely indifferent to his problems. At least he knew that they would never care enough to ask. He didn't have to make up excuses with any of his old masters the way that he had to make up excuses with Tess.

He sure as fuck didn't want her pouring all of her emotional bullshit off on him. Thinking she could make a damn bit of difference.

Charon jerked himself to his feet, and kicked the side of a cliff without really thinking about it. He heard a few small rocks sliding and didn't really think much of it, but then it got louder.

Half the damn cliff was getting ready to crumble. Charon got to a safe distance from the debris and watched as most of it came crashing to the ground. Once it all settled, and all was still, he felt better somehow. Not happy or suddenly at peace… just better.

With a growling sigh, Charon trudged back to the hunting platform, keeping his gaze averted from Tess. He could feel her eyes on him, although she was trying to make it seem like she didn't even notice that he was back yet, only affording him sidelong glances.

He clambered up the ladder and calmly sat down on the opposite side of the platform. Both were quiet for a few minutes until Tess turned herself around to look at him.

"Did you kill a mountain?"

Still facing away from her, looking out over the vast expanse of the darkening Wasteland, his jaw tightened. Of course, she'd heard it. It made such a racket that Charon wouldn't be surprised if everyone within half a mile heard it.

He turned his head so that Tess could see his profile in the moonlight. "Yeah. I guess I did."

If Tess didn't know any better, she'd say that Charon sounded almost lighthearted – like there was a hidden laughter in his words. She squinted a little and could just manage to make out the slightest grin on his face.

This alone made her heart elated, and she soon found herself smiling.

"I think it's your turn to sleep." Charon said, turning his gaze back over the Wasteland and grabbing his shotgun from his back to cradle it in his lap.

Tess crawled to the bed in the middle of the platform, but made no move to lie down. After a moment of hesitation, she grabbed Charon from behind in a hug. A nervous sound that Tess had never before heard him emit escaped his lips, and she just had to giggle.

After a few seconds, she released him and sank down onto the bed. She was snoring lightly within a minute.

_God, _Charon thought with a strange type of affection that was completely foreign to him. _That kid… that fuckin' kid…_


End file.
